The Rise of Revan
by rozial
Summary: Revan, a young changeling boy who lost his parents to the Spellscar. This is his story.
1. Prologue

The rise of Revan

Prologue

Charo sat smoking on a pipe. Old age was treating him well. He owned a small house in a quiet town. As the village Elder he was well respected and well taken care of. He enjoyed his quiet peaceful life. He looked down as he heard someone running up to him. It was a young boy around 8 years old. He had raven black hair and a red tattoo above his right eye that was the clan symbol. He had pale skin and yellow, cat-like, eyes. He came running up to Charo smiling. Charo smiled down at him. "Hello Revan. And how are you this morning?"

Revan looked up to him smiling. "I'm good, sir." He then looked down to the ground and began shuffling nervously. "Umm, my birthday was about a week ago. Am…Am I finally ready to learn to begin fighting?" He looked up at the old man with a hopeful look.

The Old man looked down and smiled. "Perhaps. Tell me though Revan; why do you still maintain that human look? You're a changeling like all of us. You can shift as much as you want, you know."

Revan looked at the man with a slightly serious look. "Our normal forms all look so similar since we're so reliant on our shape shifting. I want to keep a human form so that I stand out. Plus, when I'm older I can use the fact that most don't know I'm a changeling to my advantage."

The old man laughed and looked down at Revan with a smile. "Indeed. You are definitely much too smart for your age. Are you still planning on becoming a Bladesinger?"

Revan nodded vigorously before looking up with a determined smile. "Yes sir. I'm going to be a great Bladesinger. I'm gonna make my parents proud." At the mention of his parents his face fell a bit. They had died years ago leaving Revan behind. He had vowed to make their spirits proud.

The old man put his hand on Revan's head. "Revan, if your parents were around now they would be extremely proud of you."

"You think so?"

"I know so. Now then. I suppose you might be old enough." He began scratching his chin in mock thought. "Hmmmm I suppose you could be ready to begin training. But can you truly handle it?"

At this Revan perked up. "Sir! I'm ready to begin the training!"

"Hahaha. I suppose you are. Very well. Go get food and prepare lunch. When you've finished eating you can begin your training."

Revan stood straight as he spoke. "Yes sir!" He jumped away and began running to get the food gathered. The old man smiled at his enthusiasm. It had been 3 years. 3 long years since Revan's parents died and he took the boy in. Despite the loss of his parents to the Spellscar Revan remained cheerful and optimistic. He sincerely hoped that the boy never changed. Having raised the boy for 3 years he was always amazed at the boy's willingness to learn and follow orders. He hoped the boy had a happy future. Still, the old man feared for Revan. The Spellscar that took his parents still ran in his blood. The old man didn't want to tell him but the possibility still remained; that the Spellscar should surface on Revan, like it did his parents. But eight years was a long time for something like that to stay dormant. Still, he feared that it would one day show itself. If it did it would mean the death of Revan's dreams as very few ever survive the Spellscar.

He hoped that if the scar did show itself; that it would do so after he had died. It may have been a harsh thought but he couldn't bear to see such a promising youth be taken by such a monstrous fate. If Revan ever did become a Bladesinger, he would easily be one of the best. He had that raw talent and willingness to learn that would propel him through the ranks. Revan was a smart boy with a great future ahead of him. All he needed was the gods to smile upon him and keep the scar away. He saw Revan running back to him with the food for lunch. The old man smiled and got up to go with Revan inside. If Revan ever did get the scar Charo felt that he could still overcome it. The boy was far stronger than even many adults the old man knew. If anyone could get the scar and keep going it was him. He was a survivor. No doubt about it.


	2. Chapter 1

The Rise of Revan

Chapter 1

It had been three weeks since Revan's training with a sword began and already he had far surpassed many of his instructor's expectations. He had mastered the basics in merely two weeks and was working on his first main stance. A defensive stance called the Keegan Stance. Atanald, Revan's instructor, saw strong potential in the boy and was amazed at his skill. Revan's quick progress was moving him closer to wielding a real sword, rather than the wooden training sword.

After a long day's lesson Revan walked the familiar path to his and the Elder's house. As he came up the stairs he saw Charo looking down at him with a smile. "Hello Revan. Long day of training?"

Revan nodded his head and smiled. "Yeah. I've almost got the Keegan Stance down. I just need to work on the quarter-turn parry."

Charo laughed at the boy's insane progress. "That's all? Dear boy it takes most of us over two months to get that stance down and you say you almost have it in a mere week?"

Revan nodded again. "Yep! I practice really hard so that it doesn't me as long as others." This Charo knew was true. He had secretly watched Revan practice in the field late at night when he thought no one was watching. The boy was amazing and never seemed to tire, or if he did he never showed it. If that was the case then the boy had more self-control than just about anyone in the village. "I can't wait until I'm given a real sword." The excitement in his words was palpable. Charo looked down at his excited face and made his decision.

"Revan. Come with me." With that Charo turned and walked back in to the house. Revan followed behind, curiosity clearly written on his face. Charo led him to the back of the house and pulled a large chest out from under his bed. He pushed the chest towards Revan who looked at it with excitement and curiosity. "When your parents died your father asked me to give this to you when you were old enough. Physically you're not at the age he wanted. You're only eight. But, mentally you are far more than ready for this." At his questioning face Charo smiled. "Go on. Open it." Revan knelt down in front of it and popped the three locks off of it. He lifted the lid off and pulled out a long, wrapped object. Revan delicately unwrapped the object to find it was a sword in a sheathe. He carefully drew the sword out, treating it with great reverie. When he pulled it out and began looking at it he noticed something odd about it. The sword's overall style was that of a katana except that the backside of the blade was just as sharp as the front. He looked at the sheathe and noticed that it was straight, rather than curved. It was black with gold designs going along its length. The tip was flat and covered in gold and the whole thing had a red string wrapping around it in an uneven pattern. Revan looked up at the old man in wonderment.

"This was..my father's?"

Charo nodded. "It was his a long time ago. He wanted to be the one who presented it to you but he never got the chance. So in his stead I am presenting it to you. You are not yet ready to wield it but it is, by rite, yours. When you finish your training with your practice sword then you will be ready to use this. It is a deadly efficient weapon. Capable of cutting on both sides as well as deceptive with its sheathe. It is a masterfully crafted sword and it's one of a kind. When you are ready to leave here and begin looking for a master to teach you the arts of being a Bladesinger then you will use this sword as your implement. It will aid you in battle as a weapon, a shield, and a conductor to focus your magic. While the sword itself has few properties that make it special it is almost indestructible." Charo began walking around the room as he spoke. "The sword was originally made during the Twenty Years War. It was used by a wealthy soldier who was good friends with your grandfather. When he died he gave the sword to your grandfather and he passed it down to your father. Your father treasured it, though he was no swordsman so he never used it. He still kept it, intending to pass it down to you. It's your sword now. You can use it and pass it down to your son, or you can get rid of it for whatever reason. The choice is yours." Charo stopped moving and looked down at Revan who was staring intently at the sword in his hands.

He held the sword, staring in amazement at it. "This sword belonged to my grandfather and my father?" His face changed into a determined and serious face. "I shall keep this sword and use it as my weapon. Wherever I go it will follow. As long as I have this sword I have my father's blessing and protection."

"Be careful now. It is said that many Bladesingers get attached to their weapons so much that the weapon will actually change depending on the person. If you allow darkness to consume you the blade will become a disfigured version of itself."

Revan stared intently at the sword before speaking. As he spoke he never moved his eyes away from the blade. "I shall never allow darkness to consume my heart. This blade will remain pure. It will always serve as a warning if the darkness begins to become too strong. I will not allow myself to be corrupted." Charo looked down at the boy and smiled.

"I believe you. If anyone can resist the darkness; it is you. Now come on. No child your age should be so serious. Let us eat and tomorrow you can resume your training in the morning. Revan nodded before sheathing the sword and wrapping it back up and replacing it in the chest.

Revan woke early as he usually did. He had found it hard to sleep after the previous night's events. He walked into the kitchen and quickly scarfed down some milk and bread before grabbing his wooden sword and water canteen. He quickly left the house and set out to begin his training for the day.

Half an hour later he was becoming annoyed with his teacher. He always hated the beginning of training because his teacher required him to find him each day to begin the training which wouldn't be a problem if the man didn't use his changeling powers to disguise himself every day and then hide somewhere in or around the village. Every day it took Revan at least an hour to find him. The only exception was one day when Revan had been searching for him in the village square he had noticed two of the same person and managed to trick his teacher into revealing himself. That day only took him 12 minutes to discover him and Revan wished he would hurry up and repeat his mistake.

After another twenty minutes of searching Revan finally found him lazily eating an apple from a tree. Revan walked up and called to him. "Hey! Teacher! Hurry up and get down here! I wanna start my training!" Atanald looked down at him before smiling and laughing.

"You should take it easy kid. You're only eight. There's no need to rush through things. You should enjoy your childhood a bit more. What took you so long by the way? I was starting to fear I'd get fat from eating all these apples. Haha."

Revan gave him a deadpanned look as he spoke. "I'm not the one who came up with this stupid daily test. And you could have just not eaten the apples!"

Atanald continued laughing as the boy got worked up over his lazy attitude. Truth was He had only eaten two apples and that he had actually woke up late and decided to hide in one of the first areas the kid always searched so that he was sure to make the kid search everywhere before coming back to do a second lap. The boy was truly astounding. He had managed to search the entire village in less than an hour. He smirked at the boy as he took another bite out of the apple he was holding. "So…still in that human form huh?"

Revan rolled his eyes. Everyday Atanald commented on his appearance. "Yes. I'm still in my human form. I like this form. At least I don't look the same as everyone else."

Atanald shook his head as he looked down at Revan. He threw the apple to Revan, who caught it, as he leaped down from the tree. "So, ready to continue your training huh?" He smiled deviously as he spoke.

Revan smiled. "Yup. I've almost got the Keegan Stance down."

As Revan spoke Atanald slowly reached behind him to grasp the hilt of his wooden sword. The second Revan finished his sentence Atanald leaped at him, drawing his sword in the process, and slashed at his head. Revan's eyes widened and he quickly jumped backwards, landing on his back, before rolling out of the way of Atanald's follow-up attack. Revan came out of his roll on his feet with his sword drawn ready to defend against Atanald. As lazy as the man seemed he was the best swordsman in the village, and that was no laughing matter. His village specialized in swordsmen but none of them could compare to Atanald. He was nearly unmatched, even when up against the best from other villages. And Revan considered it an honor to train under him. He just wished Atanald would adapt a less lazy attitude. Atanald lunged toward him with his sword which Revan parried with and upward slash before aiming a kick to his head. Revan twisted around to dodge the kick and delivered a strike of his own at Atanald's stomach. Atanald knocked his sword away with his own before backhanding Revan and sending him flying. Atanald was tough so Revan learned to be sneaky. Revan got up and charged toward him. As he came within range he threw his sword at Atanald who deflected it upward. Revan's plan worked as he jumped over Atanald, retrieving his sword along the way, and landed next to him ready to swipe at his legs until he slipped on the grass and landed face first in the dirt. Atanald turned around, surprised he managed not to get hit, and saw Revan sprawled on the ground. He began laughing hysterically.

"Hahaha. I'm not gonna lie. That was a great move you had there but you're a bit too young to use it."

Revan lifted his head, a scowl on his face. "What do you mean too young?"

Atanald smiled at him as he squatted down to near eye-level. "I mean you're too small. The move was done flawlessly except the momentum you carry as you land makes you slide across the grass and fall down. If you were older you'd be bigger and would thus have more weight to anchor yourself to the ground when you land. A great move to be sure. And I am definitely impressed but you're just not physically ready to use it yet." He stood back up, still smiling. "Come on. Let's have lunch."

Revan stood up and wiped himself off before he joined Atanald. They sat at the tree and pulled out their lunches. Atanald had grilled fish and bread with orange juice. Revan had two loafs of bread and a flask full of milk. As the two ate Revan decided to start a conversation. With Atanald being the best swordsman he knew he might have some knowledge about Revan's grandfather. "Hey Atanald."

Atanald looked over with his mouth full of bread. "Hn?"

"I was wondering. Did you by any chance know my grandfather?"

Atanald swallowed his food before replying. "Yes actually. He was the reason I became a swordsman.

At this Revan perked up. "Really?"

Atanald nodded before he continued. "I met him when I was still very young. Around six I believe. I had heard stories about him in the Twenty Years War. He was practically a legend among us and many other villages. After hearing so many stories about his exploits on the battlefield and seeing how much respect he was given I decided to become a swordsman like him. I always wondered why your father never took up the mantle but I guess it was knowing the horrors his father had seen that made it unappealing to him. Heh. It's cause of your grandfather that I decided to train you. Your grandfather was a Swordmage. He was a very well respected one too. I hope I live long enough to see you become a famous Bladesinger. Hell, with the progress you've been making you might be a famous Bladesinger before I even get too old to fight." He looked over and smiled at Revan.

Revan smiled back. "I hope I can live up to your expectations."

Atanald looked off into the distance with his smile still present. "Don't worry," He looked back to Revan with a slightly wider smile. "you will." A moment passed and Atanald stood up and began stretching his arms. "Well lunch is over. Let's get back to business and make you a Bladesinger."

Revan stood up and began stretching too. His teacher was a powerful yet lazy swordsman. And he was honored to be taught by him.


End file.
